


Let Not Light See My...Desires

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Jane Austen Fusion, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, First Kiss, First Orgasm, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pride and Prejudice References, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smitten Original Percival Graves, fast scorch, graves shushing during sex, p&p lake scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 15:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: "Mister Graves is infuriating.""...Infuriatingly handsome you mean?""Yes, yes that's what I said."





	Let Not Light See My...Desires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [graves_expectations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/graves_expectations/gifts).
  * Inspired by [in the sunlight, amongst the rhododendrons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090298) by [graves_expectations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/graves_expectations/pseuds/graves_expectations). 



> this wasnt supposed to be this long. also this is all graves_expectations fault. that goddamn scene from atonement. i know its canonically accurate but fucking hell.

Book in hand, Credence made his way down to the pond, winsome and wondering if his sisters would  _ ever _ stop gossiping about the horrid and infuriating Mister Graves. Since that first dance, wherein the entire hall had fallen silent at the sight of the man and his friends, two sisters whom he’d supposedly rescued from sad orphan-hood, and cared for as his own, merely to mold them to one day wed him, his choice, of the two, Credence hadn’t been able to stand sight or mention of him. That night had been the first of many unpleasant encounters between the two of them.

_ ‘Oh, he’s so handsome, do you think he dances?’  _ usually was followed by  _ ‘Why, Mister Graves is the  _ best  _ dancer, when he so chooses. _ ’ along with  _ ‘I’ve heard he taught both his sisters to dance, so that they will put any guests to their wedding to shame.’ _

It was a baseless rumor that he’d also promised them both to Counts overseas, so that he could continue stockpiling his coffers and retire a rich man before turning forty. He didn’t even look as young as he claimed to be now, with silver touching his temples and a heavy brow that wrinkled during a frown. Credence flipped the page of his book, and tried to ignore the guilt curdling in his stomach at such impolite thoughts. 

They were after all, technically  _ neighbors _ with the Graves estate, where the horrid man resided, along with the Goldstein heiresses who might someday become Countesses on their own respective estates. He sighed, and walked faster, eager to shed his boots and socks, to dip his toes into the water, which was blessedly shaded and hidden with several willows, underneath the leaves he would then happily sit as he dried off. As he crested the hill and caught sight of the end of the pond, sparkling in the sunlight, he stopped short, and nearly dropped his book. There was someone already  _ in _ the pond, emerging at waist height from the deepest point. Had they fallen in? Were they injured? Could they swim?

Credence had gotten his shirt undone to his chest and slipped out of his shoes when he noticed exactly who it was, and he felt rather faint with anger and confusion, instead of concern and bewilderment.

“What are you doing? Are you _ lost, _ Mister Graves?”

The man looked over to him, appearing far from  _ alarmed _ at the sight of him, rather brazen, considering he was trespassing, and far from welcome in Credence’s opinion. Mister Graves put a hand to his hair, pushing back the dark dripping waves from his face, before calling out in greeting.

“Mister Barebone. I apologize. I’m was merely in search of a respite from this heat wave. I was unaware I would bother anyone. I mistook this body of water to be on open land. I now see I misjudged the extent of your estate.”

Credence threw his book down none too gently at the base of one of the willow trees, and then strode over to Mister Graves, as he began to wring out his shirt, the white fabric soaked through, almost transparent over his tanned skin, revealing a darkness over his chest that he suspected to be  _ hair _ .

“You… you thought this was  _ your _ land? How presumptuous.”

He couldn’t help the way he sounded, rage making his voice tremble, as he approached, prepared to forcibly drag the man out of the pond, and shove him towards the fence delineating his own backyard. Mister Graves had almost reached the line of soft sand before the grass, and Credence got mildly distracted at the sight of his bared calves and ankles. The man had gone in with merely work pants, rolled up thrice, for optimum cooling, he supposed.

“Again, I apologize Mister Barebone. Yet somehow, I get the sense you’re angry with me despite that. In fact, you seem to always be in an agitated state around me. Do you have a disagreement that I am misremembering? Something I did to offend you?”

Credence blinked, mental facilities failing him, and sweat began to slide down his neck, dampening his collar and making his hair itch over his face and brow.

Mister Graves was standing with his arms folded, a hip cocked while his toes kneaded the sand, water glistened on his exposed forearms, as his dark eyes locked on Credence’s own.

His throat had closed up, and his mouth went dry, no kind or diplomatic words came to mind, but a simple affirmation.

“Yes.”

Mister Graves’ heavy brow quirked, and his head tilted, a drop of water traced down his neck and vanished into the already saturated fabric of his shirt. 

“Please, enlighten me.”

Credence never stammered, unless put on the spot, or forced to do a reading in church that he had not previously prepared for. Right now, he’d take that unpleasant situation over the current confrontation in a heartbeat.

“Y-you’re arrogant. Spoiled and rich, you think you can just waltz in here, a-and then everyone’s just supposed to fall at your feet? It’s infuriating.”

He waved a hand around in a flurry, as if trying to shoo away a fly, when all it did was make him look entirely ridiculous, and he finally put a stop to it by landing the back of his palm against his forehead. He was so warm, he wanted to just jump into the pond right that instant, but Mister Graves was  _ in the way _ . 

“Mister Barebone… I’m not certain what rumors you’ve been listening to, but I assure you, I wish for no such thing. In fact, the only person I suspect to be of the constitution to faint is your dear mother. She seems most unwell. Always fluttering about, constantly trying to arrange occasions to push your sisters into my line of sight. It’s bizarre. You know, they’re both much too young for me. Not to mention, outside my area of interest.”

Credence was still frozen, perspiring and tempted to just push past the infuriating man and dive into the cool deep waters, but instead, his attention caught on the final thing Mister Graves had said, most peculiar indeed.

“I don’t understand…”

Mister Graves didn’t appear angry himself, in fact, he merely smiled, and broke the stare to let his eyes drift down to where Credence’s other hand was pressed against his stomach, holding the two halves of his shirt together, while it remained tucked into his casual trousers.

“Forgive me, but I’m afraid you may already think worse of me. Adding fuel to the fire would be unwise. Excuse me for intruding. It appears I’ve trodden upon the hospitality of the Barebones for the last time.”

Credence moved, at last, his limbs grinding into motion as his heartbeat thundered in his ears, sunshine hot and heavy against his face, until he had walked closer, right underneath the willow tree, directly in Mister Graves’ path of retreat, unless he was to return to the water. He meant to merely gesture, but found himself jabbing a finger into the man’s shoulder,

“Sir, I  _ demand _ an explanation. Are you to make me believe everyone is  _ wrong _ about you waiting to marry one of your own adopted siblings?”

Something changed on the man’s face, and his jaw tightened, as his own stance shifted, advancing on Credence so quickly he merely blinked and then Mister Graves was in front of him, reaching out to grasp one of his arms, fingers burning through the fabric of his shirt, and jerking him forward, hard, so that he was in danger of crashing into the man’s chest, still soaked through, had he not splayed his palm flat, where before he’d only accidentally touched him.

“They are. Don’t tell me you believe every baseless rumor you hear,  _ Credence. _ ”

Before he could so much as insist the man refer to him formally, Credence was under the barrage of a different kind of assault altogether, as he felt a soft graze of skin meeting his mouth, until he realized it was Mister Graves himself, pressing in, putting  _ his _ lips to Credence’s lips.

Bible verses and readings and all the consequences in the world stopping while the sun ceased to rise flew past his mind’s eye, as everything narrowed in on that one point of contact. He hadn’t meant to close his own eyes, but when Mister Graves pulled back, with an audible sound, something like a whimper escaped him, Credence blinked, and the hand on his arm gentled, before letting go completely. He felt unmoored, as if he was drowning on land, while pinned under the weight of the man’s gaze.

“Tell me, if I am mistaken, then I will leave, and we need never speak of this mistake.”

Credence’s entire body shivered as he drew a breath, and considered praying to anyone who might listen, whether it might end up being Satan or the Lord, for the strength he would need could only be described as supernatural, before a single word passed his lips.

“Mister Graves… you’re all wet.”

That hadn’t been his first inclination, the first thought to cross his mind, but there it was, and the man  _ had _ accidentally or involuntarily pulled him in, flush to his body for the duration of the kiss, quick as it might have been in reality, it had lasted a small eternity in Credence’s feverish daze. Now, his own skin and clothing was damp, and his lips were parted, wondering how on God’s earth he could ask for more, from a man he supposedly hated.

“Indeed. Would you prefer to take a dip yourself, put us on a more even footing?”

Credence’s eyes darted to the water, the glistening, inviting,  _ decadent _ and cool pond that had been his original goal in the first place, and nodded. He didn’t catch the smile that curved Mister Graves’ lips, nor notice the hand winding through his own, before he was guided forward, and he stumbled, right into the man’s chest, as his feet shuffled through the warm sands to finally meet the water. He was promptly reminded he’d neglected to remove his socks and roll up his pant legs when he could feel the rough bed of the pond underfoot, through a thin barrier, even as water lapped at his skin, soaking through the fabric, all he knew and cared about was Mister Graves, still holding him and walking slowly up to the point he’d first spotted him. Waist deep, he could finally breathe right, with coolness chasing away the fever from the sunshine, and when the man leaned in again, eyes half lidded and seemingly amused.

“Have your desires been sated Credence?”

The bottom dropped out of his stomach, somewhere around his toes, and Credence felt the man’s hand tighten on his arm, while the one holding his hand dropped to his waist, and he was brought in, as if the man wished to attempt a dance half submerged as they were. 

“No, Mister Graves, they have not.”

He was being forced to lean backwards before he could do anything, and then it stopped, as he felt his hair start to get wet, further cooling him, finally halting the itchy sweat on his neck. The gasp he’d been choking on finally escaped in a wheeze, and Mister Graves shushed him, pulling him upright once more,

“Did you think I would drown you?”

His eyes had gone wide, and the man laughed.

“So far, you have not met any previous expectations sir.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“No. You have… fairly exceeded them.”

“Is that so?”

“Y-yes.”

“Will you object to me taking you back to shore, with the intent of further ravishment?”

Credence swallowed, and then nodded, even while everything in his body and mind objected, on principle. He’d not even known such a thing was possible, much less something he would want with the man in any shape or form. Even  _ wanting _ a man at all, seemed mad.

Yet there they were, both burdened with the same innate impossible want. 

His book remained shaded under its own tree, while Mister Graves led him to the soft grass beneath another, with a much wider spread, and now, his clothing was heavy, wearing him down, soaked to the bone as he was, so he went easier, following the man as he took a seat first, and then chose to lay down, flat upon the green, gazing up at Credence with an expression he thought he’d never known before. He wondered if his own face wore the same one.

“Credence… may I?”

He still remained upright, sitting beside the man, unwilling and unsure what would be demanded of him, so he merely looked his fill, then replied,

“What do you wish to ravish about me?”

“I would be content with your virtue, and would endeavor to mark you as mine, with a kiss, here.” Mister Graves reached up to trace a fingertip from Credence’s jaw, to his neck, and down to his collar, then pushed the damp fabric away, open, revealing more of his chest, and his shoulder, as the shirt slid off, with a gentle shrug. He was now nude from the waist up before the man he’d once thought he despised everything about. What madness had overtaken him that day? 

“But where does a man keep his virtue?”

Mister Graves pondered the question, looking thoughtful as his hand dropped to rest on Credence’s knee, fingers lightly tapping the confining fabric of his trousers, making his heart skip a beat. Suddenly he suspected  _ exactly _ where it would be found.

“It’s a puritanical concept, is it not? Are we not all virtuous in life, unless given to excess of a vice or another?”

Credence wasn’t certain, but he  _ thought _ Mister Graves was staring at his chest, how his long hair dripped down his skin, a strand here and there, while the majority of the dark waves were plastered down his back. He was content to be looked at, up until the hand on his knee left, only to be set higher, grazing his thigh, before the man sat up, surging close enough to kiss him, and pulled him down, so that he almost fell summarily onto the man’s body, placed atop something unforgiving, pressing into his stomach.

“Mister Graves?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, breathy and low, as Mister Graves shifted below him, warmth pooled in his stomach, and further heat shot up his spine. It was nothing like the sunshine, hot on his face, it was something else entirely, fanning a flame that had smoldered in his gut from the very first moment he’d met the man. What he’d thought was anger, was merely a different sort of frustration altogether, it seemed.

“Credence… will you think me impertinent if I tell you that we should let our clothing dry off, while we remain in the shade?”

“But how-”

His cheeks burned as his mind reached the logical conclusion; both of them, nude upon the grass under the willow. Mister Graves stared up at him in silence for a long moment, before Credence gulped, and then nodded slowly,

“That sounds like a most excellent idea, Mister Graves.”

“Let’s execute it posthaste then,  _ Mister Barebone.” _

Credence had done no such thing ever before in his entire life, as he undressed completely, shucking away his still dripping trousers and socks, laying them out further up the hill, along with his shirt, he found himself shivering as he returned to the shade, and curled up against the base of the tree, awaiting Mister Graves’ return, while keeping his gaze locked onto the gently rippling surface of the water. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen another man naked, much less given himself anything beyond a cursory glance when getting in or out of a bath, so when Mister Graves startled him by kneeling next to him, putting a hand under his chin and forcing his eyes to him, he could hardly help the wave of arousal that shot through him, stealing his breath and stirring his groin.

“You’re hiding from me.”

Unspooling his long limbs from how he’d folded them into himself, he was reluctantly inclined to agree with the man’s assessment, but all apologies melted to the wayside when he noticed just how dark Mister Graves’ own eyes were, brown swallowed by black. Up close, now he could confirm that yes, the shadow on the man’s chest was hair, and there was actually a lot of it, whereas Credence seemed to only possess it in tucked away places. 

“I’ve never-”

“I know. But you have nothing to be ashamed of. Credence, listen to me, you’re the most beautiful thing to have caught my eye. Ever. I’m no stranger to the beauty of God’s creation, so you can take me at my word.”

“You can’t possibly-”

Mister Graves’ hand shifted, his thumb pressed lightly against Credence’s bottom lip, dragging over the soft swell of it, halting his speech, as he moved ever closer, so much so that the heat from the man’s body threatened to give him a different fever altogether.

“Believe me. I  _ can _ . You  _ must _ know how badly I want this. You can see the evidence quite plainly, if you just look.”

Credence had been determinedly  _ not _ doing exactly that, almost concerned, as his own shameful erection never rose, but simply hardened and began to weep against his thigh, dripping down his leg if he chose to neglect it, to resist self abuse. 

“Mister Graves, I couldn’t-”

“If I demand for you to touch me, will you resist? Will you continue to lie to yourself?”

“What? How am I lying? You’re maddening Mister Graves, you could make a lifelong pacifist consider rising his fis-ah!”

The man barely did anything  _ that  _ disruptive, but properly took ahold of one of Credence’s hands, to then bring it down to wrap around his length, the feel of which was enough to make his own twitch, as if it had a mind of its own. 

“I would very much love for you to put that quick witted mouth to a different use. And call me Percival.”

Credence’s ears filled with the roaring sound of his heartbeat as the man drew away, fingers curling at his wrist, pulling him along, back and down onto the grass again, while he remained kneeling over his body,  _ still holding _ Mister Graves’ cock, so he couldn’t help but follow, to obey.

Resting on the crisp green lawn, the man appeared as an entirely different person to how Credence usually thought of him, relaxed, composed and yet, free of constraints from society. Mister Graves, no,  _ Percival _ was choosing to share such an intimate moment with Credence of all people. He knew he should have been more thankful, less frustrated and reluctant. But he couldn’t help it.

“Percival...you want me to put this, into my mouth?”

“Yes Credence. Do not mistake my desire for selfishness. You will not be left wanting.”

Credence had no idea what the man meant by that, and it felt foolish to ask for clarification on such carnal matters, when he could simply dive right in.

His eyes fell shut as he made contact with the silky skin that had only just recently been under his palm, and the next thing he knew, fingers were twining through his hair, petting over his scalp, as Mister Graves bucked up into him, accidentally nudging his cheek with his length. He braced himself with his hands on the man’s broad thighs, and to his surprise, they fell open to his touch, giving him more room to press in, to attempt once more to please the man with his lips over his groin.

“Please…”

Such a prayer whispered from Mister Graves’ lips was a rare occurrence indeed, not that he was impolite, but curt, usually to the point of rudeness. Now, he was trembling, and short of breath, seemingly desperate for Credence to continue, to delve further into the unknown. His mouth opened and his tongue grazed over the hot and already wet tip, making the hand in his hair tighten, urging him forward, lower still. His own hardness between his legs was now almost painful, so he rolled his hips against the ground, feeling the gentle kiss of grass over his skin, not quite enough to help or hurt, merely agitating him further, heightening his arousal, so that when Mister Graves thrust up, driving deeper into his mouth, he barely blinked, he swallowed around the obstruction that it created, and a rumble of a groan left the man.

“Heaven’s sake Credence… you’ve never done this before?”

His eyes opened at that, shock coursing through him, a sudden chill tickling down his spine.

The noise that Mister Graves made as his member slipped out of Credence’s mouth was obscene.

“No. Never.”

“Of course. Forgive me. Keep going. If you will.”

Credence managed a smile, and then nodded, licking his lips just slightly before taking swallowing back down around Mister Graves’ cock.

“You’re full of surprises.”

As he moved, he swore he could feel the man’s thighs working under his hands, muscles shifting and contracting, long before the hand pressed flat on his head, keeping him close, still, when Mister Graves’ collapsed beneath him, and the length pulsed in his mouth, wet warmth spilled over his tongue, bittersalt to the taste, rather slimy and sticky.

He didn’t cough, but it was a near thing, as he pulled back, squeezing gently over Mister Graves’ legs, he saw a shimmer of sweat over the man’s chest, and a mad desire to kiss him, to lick the skin there overcame him, so he went, pressing his mouth to the place right above his heart, and nuzzled his cheek against the soft hairs there.

“Oh… what are you doing?”

A strong hand cradled the back of his neck, fingers curling into the nape, and Credence lifted his gaze, finding only fondness on Mister Graves’ handsome face.

“I just wanted to touch more of you.”

“I think it’s time I return the favor, don’t you?”

Credence opened his mouth to object, to insist he was fine, he could self abuse himself later, once he’d returned to the house in his sundried clothing, and gotten exactly one paragraph of reading done, but instead, Mister Graves used his strong arms to roll them over, to put him on his back, and press a knee between his legs, daringly reaching down to touch his aching cock.

“Oh!”

“Yes, tell me what you like. Please.”

Credence liked everything Mister Graves was doing, whether by accident or on purpose, a slow graze of his hand against the entire length, a press of his thumb over the slippery head, and his hips jerked when knuckles gently brushed his inner thighs, urging his legs open wider.

“Do you want me to kiss you there, or keep using my hand?”

“Kiss me here, Percival.”

Credence was breathless with wonder, relishing every second Mister Graves looked down at him, concerned and curious, before applying his mouth dutifully to his own, then letting his tongue glide over the seam of his lips, daringly, he parted them, allowing the man entrance, so that he could taste himself, if he so desired. A groan escaped Credence, as the hand over his cock squeezed on the downstroke, and his arousal coiled tighter in his gut. Mister Graves broke away, and dragged his mouth down Credence’s neck, at first a slow kiss, and then a sharp nip of teeth, which only made him whimper, trying to beg for more, without knowing how.

“Is it good?”

The kiss, the hand over his groin? He wasn’t sure which the man meant, but it was all too much, too fast, he felt as if he might catch fire from anything more, he’d need to be tossed into the pond.

“Percival, please, I can’t-”

“Shh-hh. You’re doing fine. Don’t worry about trying to impress me. Just let go.”

Without the heavy brace of the man’s body, Credence suspected he might simply take flight if he didn’t focus on not exploding from the bursts of pleasure coalescing inside of him, and without a word, Mister Graves brought him to the cusp, and encouraged him to fall entirely. His eyes closed as his mouth opened on a moan, and he could feel his hips jolting minutely as his cock emptied itself against the man’s palm, defiling the grass with his release, and still Mister Graves did not cease in his strokes. Until he found himself crying out, desperate for it to end, while clinging harder to the man’s neck, his broad shoulders, not willing to let go, only then did the hand leave him, and a firm kiss with a hint of a bite to it was granted, while sparks continued to burn behind his eyelids.

He laid still as the tremors occasionally made his fingers twitch, limbs tingling and heavy, as Mister Graves shifted off of him, and away to the side, now on his back as well, panting for air, as if he’d been the one who’d touched the sky, and not Credence. His hand found the man’s, and he squeezed his fingers lightly, the world stopping before he got a squeeze in return.

“Does it always feel like that?”

He finally asked, voice a ragged whisper, and Mister Graves gave a throaty chuckle,

“It should, if you’re in love.”

Credence looked over at the man only to find him staring right back,

“Did you-”

“I’ve only known you through observation, Mister Barebone. Until today. I would be delighted if you would allow me to learn more, and ask for your permission to court you.”

“Is that even something that could be done?”

Mister Graves shifted onto his side, getting nearer by default, before allowing his other hand to drift atop Credence’s bare hip, and down his side, caressing skin that no one had ever touched before, the soft curve of his backside seeming to fit perfectly against his palm. He swallowed thickly, and watched the man’s eyes follow the movement. 

“If I chose to marry my sister, who would stop me? I want to put a stop to those harmful lies. Why should I not pursue someone I actually admire?”

Credence tried to ignore the heat beginning the slow descent in his groin,

“You… admire me?”

His voice came out as a squeak, and Mister Graves laughed again, but not cruelly, in fact, he got even closer, enough to brush his lips against Credence’s jaw, before using his grip on his backside to close the distance between them, bringing their bodies together in a slow grind of hips and thigh.

“You’re well read, cautious of tongue, but clever when you speak your mind. You’d make anyone a fine husband. I’d consider myself lucky to be in the running.”

Credence opened his eyes, unaware when they’d closed, and found Mister Graves smiling at him, before kissing him properly, and with a simmering heat to it that made his toes curl. The hand that had been holding the man’s now moved to grip his arm, and keep him still, as a leg moved purposefully between his, just barely nudging against his hardening cock.

“You didn’t actually take my virtue, did you?”

Credence managed, and Mister Graves groaned,

“I rather hoped you wouldn’t bring that up. It doesn’t matter to me, truly. Even if you’d been with ladies of the evening during your time in the city, like I have, it wouldn’t change the way I feel about you. Anything you wish to give to me, I will gladly take.”

“ _ Anything. _ I’m yours.”

Mister Graves shuddered against him, and the hand curving over his buttocks squeezed harder, jolting his hips forward, his cock rutting into the man’s hip.

“Credence,  _ you can’t _ just say things like that. I’ve nothing, no way to prepare you for such a thing. If you’d let me, hold you, I could touch you… with your back to my chest.”

He was nodding before the man had gotten most of the words out, and turning around, shocking himself with his own eagerness, but glad to do what would please Mister Graves, if it meant he would continue to touch him.

“God… what did I do to deserve you?”

“Trespass on my family estate?”

Mister Graves laughed again, and kissed Credence’s shoulder, before stroking a hand down his side, making his skin tingle as he just barely avoided his cock, gripping his thigh, and lifting it slightly, to press forward, flush to his back, and he started as he realized what was nudging between his thighs, was the man’s cock.

“Keep your legs together, best you can.”

A slow roll of the man’s hips behind him, and he could feel Mister Graves’ breath stutter, hot against his neck, as his hand returned to palm over his groin, forcing a whimper from his lips.

“Please…”

“I’ve got you.”

He closed his eyes, and just focused on feeling, on the overwhelming sensations of such intimate contact, way Mister Graves stroked over his cock while moving against him, until his hand flew back, gripping frantically at the man’s waist, muscles trembling under his fingertips, words failed him as he tried to warn the man how close he was, how good it felt. Was it love?

Lost in his own pleasure, he cried out, and tried to hold Mister Graves’ hand still over him, the waves of bliss washing over him, as he felt warmth dripping down his thighs, a shiver ran through him, when his own cock finished spilling over the grass again, he could breathe. Mister Graves buried his face against his back, and kissed his heated skin, letting his heartbeat slow once more.

“I think our clothes are probably dry by now.”

“Mmm, I suspect they are.”

Not that he was eager to move, but Credence knew by the height of the sun, he might be in danger of being missed. So reluctantly, he pulled away, out of the comfort and safety of Mister Graves’ arms to go retrieve his clothing, baked by the sun, and warm over his skin. Nearly stifling, compared to resting in the shade, naked but for the weight of the man’s eyes on him. He glanced over shyly, but Mister Graves had already gotten fully dressed again, and was smiling at him. 

“Ready?”

He just nodded, and was surprised when the man stepped past him, scooping up his book and offering his arm, instead of the tome itself. Mister Graves was going to escort him home, to give them a few more moments to linger together. Credence felt giddy at the thought, of someday sharing a home with the man, as he put a hand to his elbow, they crested the hill and his house came into view, boring, dull and outdated in comparison to the Graves estate. The familiar prickle of shame jabbed between his shoulders, and Mister Graves leaned in to whisper goodbye, as he passed over Credence’s book, and gently extracted himself from his grasp.

“I’ll see you again soon?”

He hated how he sounded, less than his usual confident self. 

Percival Graves smiled again,

“Dinner, sunday evening, I hope?”

Excitement tinged with hope chased away the worry, and Credence nodded, not quite skipping back inside.

 

* * *

**end**


End file.
